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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24005737">Who Can It Be Now?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ester_potter/pseuds/ester_potter'>ester_potter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Soulmates, This is not Happy, im sorry, it took a night to write it and a day to translate it, no beta we die like men, no happy ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:34:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24005737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ester_potter/pseuds/ester_potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmate!AU where everyone has their soul mate's last words written somewhere on their body.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa &amp; Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Who Can It Be Now?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <span>
      <span><em>“Te mando un beso con el viento<br/>
y sé que sientes,<br/>
te das la vuelta sin verme,<br/>
pero yo estaré allí”</em></span>
    </span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>
      <span>- Pablo Neruda<sup>1</sup></span>
    </span>
  </p>
</div><span>
  <br/>
  <span> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> </span>
  <br/>
</span><div>
  <p>
    <span>
      <span>Regarding soul mates, Andrés has only one certainty: everyone ends up falling in love more than once in a lifetime, but each individual is destined to be with one single person; having a soul mate means loving, being loved and spending life together.<br/>
 <br/>
 <br/>
Sergio and Andrés remain on the sidelines, while Mrs. Marquina receives condolences from her relatives, sharing thoughts full of grief and loss about that ruthless bastard also known as fate. The last words Sergio's father had addressed to his wife, before leaving home for the last time, were not the same words written on her leg.<br/>
-Are you sure? - Andrés asks his brother, looking at him with concern as he’s been doing secretly throughout the funeral.<br/>
-Positive. I heard mom telling Aunt Luz - answers Sergio. - I guess having a proper name as a mark would have been too easy.<br/>
Sergio, armed with all the brazenness of his thirteen years of age, usually makes this kind of comments when he wants to have fun dismantling his brother's romantic and dramatic nature. They always end up arguing when they discuss the subject of "soul mates", and Andrés often uses those anecdotes to explain how different the two of them are, to anyone who asks him whether he resembles his brother.<br/>
However, Sergio's father died just yesterday – and he also happened to be a wonderful stepfather for Andrés, surely better than his biological father, whom he hasn’t seen in years – and this is not the time nor the place to fight, so he just says: - The Words are a gift.<br/>
Something he really believes in, even if he can't blame his brother. A name would certainly have been easier. Or the first words said, maybe. But no: at the age of eighteen, everyone finds the last words that their soul mate will ever tell them in their body, carved on the skin - which sure as hell wasn’t an incentive to live a long cheerful story together, not without fearing and at the same time yearning for the moment when he or she would say the words. And which was the worst alternative? For them to actually say them, thus ending everything, or for them to die or leave the other without having said them, leaving their partner to face a loss <em>and</em> the awareness of all the weeks, months, years wasted with the wrong person?<br/>
Two months later, the morning he turns eighteen, Andrés runs to wake up Sergio so that he can read him the words that appeared on his back that night.<br/>
<em>I offered melting gold together.</em><br/>
-They’re not very romantic – admits Andrés, almost displeased, as he pulls down his shirt.<br/>
-Well, at least they're specific. It's not something trivial that anyone could say, like "I'm sorry" or "I love you" or other bullshit.<br/>
-You ungrateful fool – Andrés is almost outraged. – Keep on with your contemptuous attitude and you'll end up alone, I’m telling you.<br/>
-That doesn’t scare me.<br/>
Five years later, Sergio turns eighteen; he hasn't rolled up his sleeve yet when Andrés grabs his arm, excited as ever, and reads: - <em>It was only when I chose you over my old life that I really started living</em><sup>2</sup> - He opens his eyes wide with amazement and smiles proudly. – Look at that! Your words are much better than mine. Does that seem right to you? If it was up to you, you wouldn't even have them!<br/>
Sergio snorts as if he doesn’t care at all – which is the truth. Andrés always looks at him with tenderness, but he doesn't envy him: his brother's cold rationality, along with his awkward and insecure side, doesn't help him at all. He’s not completely immune to the female universe, but it’s merely a physical need to alleviate to him, not a desperate search for a missing piece of himself, like it is for Andrés.<br/>
As a teenager, Andrés moves from one relationship to another with surprising ease, discovering that he can be as quick to become infatuated as he is skillful at seducing, and as he grows up he can boast many more experiences than his peers; he knows how to satisfy a woman, in bed and out, but above all he knows what he likes, what he’s looking for and how to obtain it. Or at least that’s what he believes.<br/>
As an adult, romance and instinct don’t leave him and he gets married five times, each after a few months of dating his future lady. Sergio's exasperated warnings are useless.<br/>
-Have you ever heard of something called "living together"?<br/>
-Why should we move in together? - Andrés says, as if his brother had just said a heresy. - I mean, little brother! How many times do I have to tell you? Boredom is the most insidious adversary to beat.<br/>
-I know you could end up bored, but at least you’d be sure you actually can put up with her 24/7, not just for a couple of evenings a week!<br/>
-Now where’s the fun in that?<br/>
-Ugh… Whatever! You're impossible.<br/>
Eventually Sergio turns out to be right every single time, but Andrés doesn’t give up.<br/>
"I’ll find her" he tells himself after each divorce. “Sooner or later”<br/>
 <br/>
 <br/>
The only constant in Andrés' life in those years of failed attempts, apart from his brother, is Martín Berrote. They meet because of a robbery in a jewelry store in Barcelona and never separate.<br/>
Martín is special, and Andrés sees it immediately; at the beginning he intended to use his skills in escape plans, timing and coordination to get to target bigger preys in the future, but over time he finds himself nurturing an unusual curiosity towards him. Once Martín overcomes his initial reluctance and Andrés his caution, the former confesses he arrived from Buenos Aires alone, with an engineering degree; he has no place to go, no one waiting for him nowhere and what he left behind he prefers to leave there, buried in the past. Andrés has no interest in insisting and they don’t talk about it anymore.<br/>
Months pass: they share robberies, luxury holidays and excessive purchases of all kinds after a lucky heist, barely thwarted shootings with the police, even bullets extracted without anesthesia in environments that often happened to be far from sterile, and before Andrés can realize it, Martín has become his best friend, a brother. He knows he’s the only family he has - even Marko and Santiago<sup>3</sup>, the only friends Martín has apart from Andrés, have known him thanks to the latter -, and this makes Andrés unusually possessive in his regards.<br/>
Martín's trust becomes his primary goal; he has to struggle more than he ever did with anyone else, but he succeeds. He strips him of every defense wall, every trauma, every insecurity, up to the core of his person, and he likes what he discovers, it stimulates a reaction – perhaps an attraction – in him. They’re more similar than he expected and they fit perfectly when they’re not; they complement each other. Before him, whenever Andrés was involved in a conversation with someone too similar to himself, he hadn’t resisted more than a few hours; somehow, time loses its meaning when he’s with Martín. He’s intrepid, materialistic, self-centered and so brilliant and ingenious that he almost reaches a madness that fits perfectly with Andrés’.<br/>
The Argentinian learns that the world is not divided into petty and unscrupulous people, who crush others to stay afloat, and people doomed to suffer the formers’ abuses because they’re too weak to do otherwise. There’s a middle ground that he gets to know with Andrés, who takes him under his wing asking for nothing in return – just a working collaboration and a fair division of earnings, which is fine by him. Over time, Andrés realizes that Martín has gone from respecting him to admiring him, to showing him an unconditional devotion that no one ever showed him - apart from Sergio of course.<br/>
Whenever Andrés comes up with an idea for a heist, Martín gets on with design, overthinking escape plans as if he was a screenwriter, studying planimetries and assigning a solution to any eventuality; when they’re not busy planning a heist, they travel throughout Europe together, something Martín has not yet had the opportunity to do since he arrived in Spain. Every time they visit a city together Andrés feels like a child on Christmas morning and declares himself as tour guide, proud to make his favorite person in the world, along his brother, appreciate art – his greatest passion along with money and wine.<br/>
There are times when instead of lingering on the splendor of what’s before him – being a monument or a painting or a sculpture – Andrés gets distracted by the expression of amazement that punctually appears on Martín's face.<br/>
-One thing is to see certain things in books, but having them right in front of you…- comments Martín breathlessly while admiring <em>Liberty Leading the People</em>.<br/>
André finds himself thinking it would be nice if Martín could always feel like this. "It would be nice if <em>I</em> could always make him feel like this"<br/>
There’s a connection between them, a thread that pulls... The thing is, Andrés doesn’t know what to do with all this, doesn’t know how to call this, because it never happened to him before. He has his brother, he has his friends, he has women. What he has with Martín is a bond unlike any other he’s ever experienced. He often finds himself driving away those thoughts with annoyance, frustrated and almost frightened by their complexity, even though he’ll never admit it.<br/>
 <br/>
 <br/>
Ten years go by and Andrés starts to notice a tremor in his hands. It’s barely noticeable, and he's so busy doing things during the day that he only realizes it at night. An alarm bell rings in his head, but he puts it off for as long as he can and tries not to think about it – for a few months.<br/>
All the psychological preparation that he had self-submitted to goes to shit the moment his sees the results of his tests, which confirm his greatest fear. He knew that Helmer's myopathy was hereditary, and he’s much happier knowing it happened to him and not Sergio, and yet he can’t help feeling lost.<br/>
The worst thing comes that same evening, as he dines with Martín in what has become their home in the last couple of months – though it’s not a real home but a monastery.<br/>
-I have something to tell you -Martín starts as he sits down in front of him.<br/>
-Me too -Andrés looks at him and recognizes his gaze. – You’ve been thinking of a heist?<br/>
-What the hell - Martín laughs, - you’re no fun.<br/>
-I know you – Andrés grins. - You first. Tell me.<br/>
-The Bank of Spain.<br/>
-Did you find a way to get in?<br/>
-Let's just say I've been working on it a lot in the last few weeks. I didn't want to say anything until I was sure, but I think I'm on the right track.<br/>
-And is it possible?<br/>
-So far the odds have gone up to 85%. That's a good result.<br/>
-I'd say so. Last time we didn't even know where to start. How did you solve it?<br/>
-What is this? – Martín chuckles. – What happened to "No business talk during dinner"?<br/>
-Right – Andrés agrees.<br/>
Andrés’ voice and the way he lowers his eyes on his plate alarm Martín. - What did you want to tell me?<br/>
Andrés swallows a bite and sighs. He puts down his fork and raises his eyes to Martín, who stops eating and looks at him. - The results of the tests have arrived.<br/>
-When?<br/>
-This morning.<br/>
-Did you read them?<br/>
-Yes.<br/>
A silence that until then had remained bound to the monks’ rooms and outside their space now invades theirs. Andrés doesn't take his eyes off him, while awareness makes its way into Martín's gaze, who drops his fork on the plate.<br/>
-No -he just whispers.<br/>
-I'm afraid so. -Andrés shrugs, a melancholy smile on his face.<br/>
Martín sighs, visibly upset, and without realizing it he gets up from the table, moving in the opposite direction. He stops in front of Andrés’ portrait leaning against the wall and stares at it motionless, without uttering a word, his hands resting on his hips. The movement of his shoulders suggests he’s taking deep breaths, he’s processing Andrés' words, and the latter knows that he should let him, but he can’t bear that silence and most of all, he can’t bear the pain he’s causing him.<br/>
"Look at <em>me</em>" he wants to tell him, "I'm here but I won't always be here, unlike that painting". He holds on for a few seconds, before he gets up and takes a few steps towards him. - Martín - he says, spreading his arms. - Come here.<br/>
Martín wipes his face quickly and turns around, eyes full of tears, and throws himself in his arms, holding on to him like his life depends on it. Andrés feels tears wetting the collar of his shirt, but he doesn’t care and holds him tighter. He caresses his hair, his thumb gently stroking his scalp, and lets himself be overwhelmed by the warmth he’s feeling.<br/>
-It'll be all right, my friend – he whispers. - You'll see, everything will be all right.<br/>
He feels stupid when he says it because, really, <em>nothing</em> will be all right, but it's a lie he needs to tell himself for now, and Martín needs to hear it too, and he really can't stand that he’s crying for him. He had expected this to be difficult for both of them, but it far exceeds his expectations.<br/>
When Martín stops shaking in his arms, Andrés takes his face away from his without loosening his embrace. - We have to look for a cure - Martín tells him in a broken voice - We have to speak to someone...<br/>
-I told you, there's no cure.<br/>
-But there must be clinical trials…<br/>
-Martín -Andrés interrupts him right away, resting his forehead on his. –It’s ok.<br/>
Martín swallows, closes his eyes and nods slowly; he’s about to dry his tears but Andrés does it for him, so he lets him and then moves away and clears his voice, passing his hands over his face. – I’m sorry, that really wasn't necessary.<br/>
-What?<br/>
-I shouldn’t have reacted like this. You're the one who... – He leaves the sentence unfinished and looks around, carefully avoiding the other's gaze. - I mean, you didn’t need this. I'm sorry.<br/>
-Nonsense -Andrés smiles fondly at him and they sit. He starts eating again as if the conversation never happened, while Martín has totally lost his appetite, and keeps sipping wine from time to time.<br/>
-Don't do that, -Andrés tells him, - eat.<br/>
-How much time? - Martín asks, ignoring him.<br/>
-Three years. Five if I'm lucky. You know how these estimates can be appoximate.<br/>
Martin takes it.<br/>
-You know it doesn't have to be like this, right?<br/>
-No, it doesn't. But I decided. I've decided years ago. I’m going to live as I have done so far, nothing will change. -For the first time since he found out, he feels like himself again. He still has time, he has his friends and his brother, maybe even another woman.<br/>
Martín nods. - Does Sergio know?<br/>
Andrés shakes his head and grins. - You're the first person I've told, but if you tell me more about your brilliant plan to get into the bank, I can convince my brother to come here. I'd rather tell him face to face than over the phone.<br/>
-Are you sure he'll approve? - comments skeptically Martín. - The last time, he gave us a good thrashing.<br/>
-He likes to bust balls, but I assure you, if we present him with a difficult but feasible plan, he won't back down - he smiles genuinely, at the idea of seeing his little brother again. - You'll see, he'll end up enjoying it more than we do.<br/>
-So you still want to do it? If you don't feel like it, we can just call it off...<br/>
-You're kidding, right? - Andrés stops him. - It could be...<br/>
"... the last heist of my life" he thinks, but he doesn't say it.<br/>
-... the heist of our life! Nah, we’re not going to call anything off. I can smell the money already.<br/>
Martín smiles again, basking in the illusion that everything is exactly as before. - As you wish - he says as he starts eating again. - Speaking of which, I haven't told you the most important thing. We can talk it over if you’re not convinced, but I was thinking we could aim for something better than money.<br/>
Andrés smiled. – Oh, really? And what is it?<br/>
Martín leans forward on the table, smiling cunningly as he always does when his mind gives birth to an idea. - Gold.<br/>
Now it's Andrés who loses his appetite; the food he has swallowed so far gets stuck on his stomach and his heart skips a beat, but he stays steady. If he’s going to have a heart attack, he wants to make sure he's got it right; so he swallows the last bite, takes a couple of sips of Bordeaux and asks: - And how do you intend to get it out?<br/>
-That's the fun part: we melt it.<br/>
Andrés swallows and collets all his strength to behave normally. - We melt it - he repeats.<br/>
-We melt it - Martín nods assertive. - You and me.<br/>
For a few seconds Andrés short-circuits; he feels like he's in a limbo between dream and reality. He discovered the cause and the moment of his death... the same day he discovered who his soul mate is. Before the Words were spoken to him.<br/>
"I need something stronger" is his first rational thought, as he turns an irritated look at the bottle.<br/>
Martín looks at him bewildered. - Are you ok?<br/>
-Yes – he manages to answer.<br/>
-You don’t seem to be taking it well…<br/>
-Gold is perfect. - says Andrés hurrily. - I'm in. Why settle down for money when gold’s worth so much more? - He shakes it off and gives him one of his usual smiles. - Besides, it wouldn't even be theft. Technically, it's not our stuff.<br/>
-Colonizers pigs - comments Martín under his breath.<br/>
André laughs. - I know, I know, it's a tempting incentive - He grabs the glass again and holds it in front of his friend, who makes his gently touch it.<br/>
-To the heist of the century, then - announces Andrés.<br/>
-To the breakdowns we’ll give Sergio when we tell him about it - Martín giggles.<br/>
-To life.<br/>
-To you.<br/>
Andrés loses sleep that night, trying to understand what’s changed from the past, when he would’ve sold his soul just to know who his soul mate was in advance, before he heard the Words. Now he keeps cursing himself for knowing. He'd much rather forget them forever, cut that piece of skin off.<br/>
He thinks of Martín, who looks at him as if he was the most important person in his life - which he probably is -, who constantly fixes his bow tie, who cleans his drawing board every night before going to bed without Andrés asking him, who never lied to him or hurt him in any way in his whole life, who told him everything and to whom <em>he</em> told everything, who stays close to him through thick and thin, no matter the circumstances nor what other people Andrés chooses to love. Martín who loves him unconditionally and has shown it to him every day for ten years, carefully avoiding to actually declare his feelings because he respects him too much - Andrés has always been attracted by women and never considered men - and because he’d probably rather have him in his life as a friend than not have him at all. He loves him this much and it’s wonderful and terrible at the same time.<br/>
Maybe it’s because of the myopathy, maybe it’s the thought of dying in general, or maybe it’s because of Martín, that Andrés lets go and tears slip to the sides of his face, falling on the pillow. He wonders how he could have been so blind. It was obvious it was him. He should have realized it years earlier even just by looking inside himself. It's all so clear now: he's always loved him. All his life he's been looking for something that was right in front of his eyes... and he can’t even tell him now, because he’s going to die soon.<br/>
The thought of what his mother had reduced to still haunts him some night; he and Sergio had stayed near her death bed all the time during her last months, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone - neither the illness itself nor seeing a mother slowly die because of it.<br/>
The tremors will increase, and within a couple of years - who was he kidding? The three years doctors gave him are to be approximated by default and not by excess, given the aggressive course of myopathy – he’ll stop walking, he’ll stop moving his arms, then his fingers, he’ll stop chewing...<br/>
The total loss of himself before the final oblivion.<br/>
If this is what awaits him, he decides to deliberately ignore it. He won’t let the disease become a filter that makes him see life with different eyes, or that makes <em>him</em> unrecognizable in the eyes of others; the last thing he wants is to be treated differently. As long as the symptoms are mild and sporadic and don’t prevent him from doing what he loves, he can pretend everything’s fine.<br/>
The most tiring - and painful - thing will be pretending Martín isn’t his soul mate, but he has to do it anyway, and make their plan come true. Melting gold together. One last adventure with the love of his life was the perfect end to his existence, even though he already knows he’s going to have to fight twice as hard with his brother to convince him of the plan – and also because he’s sure he’ll insist for Andrés to stop and look for a cure too. But he won’t give in to him either.<br/>
"You don't ask an artist to stop painting," he thinks, seraphic, once sleep comes to cloud his melancholy. "I must remember this one. Maybe it will convince him."<br/>
 <br/>
Three months go by and what at first seemed almost impossible becomes routine: his relationship with Martín has not changed at all. His best friend – no, his <em>soul mate</em> – treats him as if he wasn’t sick, just like Andrés wants. He doesn’t even need to tell him; Martín understands it and ignores the pain that’s eating him up inside just to please him, and Andrés loves him for it.<br/>
When Andrés tells him he met a woman and he’s fallen in love, Martin reacts as he always does: he pretends not to feel the jealousy that grips him every time like it’s first, he asks the right questions and for the first time Andrés doesn't push him to be with them longer than necessary like he used to do in the past. He introduces them and that’s it.<br/>
Incredibly, of all his wives, Tatiana is the one Martín gets along the most with. Maybe it's because he's focused on making Andrés’ wedding the best of all, given the abundant possibilities that it might be his last, or maybe it's just Tatiana being genuinely witty and generous, along with beautiful and sexy. The fact that Andrés knows Martín is his soul mate doesn’t stop him from finding physical relief in the female body; on the contrary, now that he knows he’s ill he looks for it even more. He really is infatuated with her although now that he knows what real love is he’s certain that he can't feel anything like that for anyone other than Martín, and he’s also pretty convinced that she’s not in love with him either. But that doesn't matter and one day, while he watches her trying on various clothes in front of the mirror, he sees himself sick and old and sees her taking care of him. He thinks it's perfect. Tatiana is young, full of life; they would live wildly for a couple of years, then he’d die and she’d quickly recover. She’d move on. Martín wouldn’t.<br/>
He doesn't think about it more than he has to and asks her to marry him the same day; as he had foreseen, she happily accepts, even though she knows about his condition, nd throws herself in planning the wedding body and soul, euphoric as ever before. Within a few days she’s already got it all set.<br/>
-Andrés de Fonollosa, I’m warning you - she repeats on the phone for the sixth time. - No jokes tomorrow, understood? Everything must be perfect.<br/>
-Honey, calm down, all right? I won't do anything you won't appreciate - replies Andrés placid, right after he went to knock on the monks' door and asked them if they felt like breaking the vow of silence for a day and sing at his wedding, in the name of the sacred union between two souls.<br/>
-You're going to drive the woman crazy - chuckles Martín as he sits on the couch polishing his shoes for the next day.<br/>
-No way, she’ll get over it as soon as she becomes Mrs de Fonollosa -Andrés laughs. - Besides, she'll miss all of this when I'm gone.<br/>
Martín loses his smile instantly and they don't talk about it anymore.<br/>
Andrés hates himself then, and he hates himself the next day, when he says “I do” and sings for his wife, while Martín is forced to go through it all for the fifth time and he smiles and cheers and dances; he doesn’t know Andrés knows but, again, this is not about who Andrés loves: it’s about who’s more likely to recover after his departure.<br/>
 <br/>
 <br/>
-He's in love with you.<br/>
Andrés does the first thing that comes to his mind and laughs, throwing his head back, then runs for cover behind an ironic skepticism.<br/>
-He's in love with me. - he repeats, getting serious. – Does he write my name in his notebooks? Or did he confess in drunken tears?<br/>
Sergio starts lavishing clues like he's been waiting to do it all night and Andrés already regrets having asked him what was the matter with Martín. Then Sergio brings up the plan and it only gets worse.<br/>
-We both know the plan’s a disaster.<br/>
-The plan is a marvel. –Andrés wouldn’t want to appear so nervous but he can’t help himself because he hates not being in control and the conversation is getting <em>totally</em> out of his control. He just hopes Sergio will shut his damn mouth for once, he almost shouts at him to do it, but he knows he won't give up this time. He's more inflexible than he’s ever seen him.<br/>
-It does have some wonderful details, but it doesn't work as a plan! It. Doesn't. Work.<br/>
Andrés clenches his fists. Few times has he been unable to find the words in an argument. He feels defenseless, completely exposed, and it’s not over yet: Sergio opens his eyes wide, like he’s finally found the key to everything. - Who had the idea? - Andrés doesn't answer immediately caught off guard. - Who? – insists Sergio. - You or him?<br/>
When Andrés figures out the reason of the question his palms start to sweat, he squeezes his lips and looks away from him.<br/>
"Damn you and your brain, little brother" he thinks, taking a sip of Sangria and cursing the other’s memory. "You haven't forgotten the Words, have you? I thought so."<br/>
-Oh, God... – Sergio’s both frustrated and annihilated. - It's him.<br/>
Andrés grumbles annoyed. - So what?<br/>
-So what!? You want to rob the Bank of Spain with the person who is almost certainly your soul mate? Are you insane? The plan’s full of flaws and I never hid it from you, and now you tell me you want to go with him through this madness?<br/>
-It’s his plan! – Andrés bursts. – I can't stop him from implementing it.<br/>
-No, but you can decide <em>not</em> to go.<br/>
-Forget it, I’m not letting him down. He never did that to me. We've been working together for ten years.<br/>
-Andrés, - Sergio lowers his tone a little and starts gesturing, which is never a good sign based on his brother's experience, -it's for the sake of the both of you that I'm asking you to stop. Don't you understand what you're risking?<br/>
-What exactly are you afraid of? - says Andrés. - That feelings will take over and we'll make a rookie mistake?<br/>
-That's exactly what I'm talking about. Simple beginner's mistakes are be easy to fix; unfortunately, the ones you could make would have consequences that...<br/>
-As long as he doesn’t know he'll behave, - Andrés interrupts him, tired of hearing him talk about statistics, - as he always has.<br/>
-But <em>you</em>'ll know! - Sergio points out, no longer able to keep a low tone. - For fuck's sake, Andrés! You'll know! Listen, I don't doubt that the two of you are great as a team, and I've also congratulated you several times, and... now that I know he’s your soul mate I guess this explains a lot of things, but it was ignorance that protected you. But now you know you're gonna get yourselves killed! I can't believe you haven’t thought about it. Come on, fucking use your brain. You know it, and that's why you called me!<br/>
-No, - retorts Andrés in anger, glad he’s finally found something valid to say, - that’s not what I called you! If I'd known you'd put me before the Inquisition court, I would have avoided it. But it’s the biggest job of my life and I want my brother there.<br/>
Sergio isn’t buying it, he just shakes his head and lowers his tone again. – You want me to be the brains he’s not providing. And you… You know how to get the gold out but not yourselves. You have no idea how to live the rest of your life with 90 tons of gold without getting caught. An analytical mind, however limited, would realize that immediately! But not you guys. Because you're soul mates. You're too involved. And trust me, if you break into the Bank of Spain together and things get bad for one of you... you won't get out alive. You'll get yourself killed, Andrés. This plan is suicide.<br/>
Sergio’s speech to take its toll in no time.<br/>
Andrés realizes there are only two options: to go ahead and steal the Bank's gold – condemning himself and Martín –, or to choose the Mint's plan. The latter’s infinitely easier in its complexity; not a real theft but an attack to the system, worthy of that idealistic prodigy of his little brother; a bore, but only if compared to the Bank's plan. The former was out of the question. He only regrets having accepted and giving Martín false hope.<br/>
On the other hand, if he took part in the plan that originally belonged to his stepfather, he would leave something to his little brother before he died, and he could ensure that everything was going well and that Sergio wouldn’t risk his life. But then again, Martín couldn't come.<br/>
Sergio had no bad intentions - his beloved brother didn't even know what bad intentions were - but he’s sincerely worried about both of them and he’s right. It pisses him off to admit it, but he's right.<br/>
In the past heist, Andrés had always been worried about Martín, even when he was next to him, armed to the teeth, but they felt they could take the risk together. Each robbery was a leap into the dark and they were more than happy to do it together, with optimism and even a healthy dose of fatalism, sometimes.<br/>
"Whatever must happen, will happen," Andrés always said. "Risks are part of life… The <em>best</em> part of life."<br/>
Now, suddenly, he isn’t willing to take any more risks. Not with Martín. The very idea that something could happen to him, no matter how small and insignificant the chances of failure, makes his stomach clench. Tatiana knows about the robbery, and if she was to be injured or killed instead of Martin, Andrés would blame himself for it for all his life, but he’d keep everything under control. If that happened to Martin, he'd no longer answer for his actions. And vice versa.<br/>
It's the same reason why he chose her to have, out of all people, during his illness. Of course, he knows Martin would be more than willing to do it, but in time he would end up being his nurse: washing him, dressing him, feeding him, supporting him...<br/>
"I'd rather die alone than put him through such a hell," he thinks.<br/>
Despite the audacity of that thought, it brings along a sense of loneliness and depression that Andrés has never felt before.<br/>
He’s just not the type to die in a hospital bed, surrounded by his loved ones crying over him and holding his hand as he slowly passes away. A dramatic and heroic exit would be much more satisfying. He's not entering the Mint with a predetermined idea of getting himself killed, but deep inside he knows that if the right opportunity came, he wouldn't hold back and he’d take it.<br/>
"He's going to hate me," he tells himself. "But I can't leave without telling him the truth"<br/>
He's been like a selfish, manipulative bastard for the past ten years; he decides it's time to end it. A clean break, that's what they need.<br/>
Once they were over, Andrés would have nothing left to lose. He’d join his brother and do everything to carry out the plan, coldly and ruthlessly, like a machine with no relationships or feelings. No connection to life, no trouble detaching from it.<br/>
 <br/>
 <br/>
-Do you still think you're going through with the plan of the Mint? - asks Andrés while he lies on the grass next to his brother in the cloister of the monastery, wrapped in the warmth of the sun, watching the clouds above.<br/>
-Yes, - Sergio answers with a sigh, - it's the best choice. But if there's no way to convince you guys...<br/>
-I’m convinced -Andrés interrupts him before he regrets it. - I'm in.<br/>
Sergio turns to him. He must’ve misunderstood. - What?<br/>
-You're right - continues Andrés, without looking at him. - Our plan is too risky. Dad's is much easier to carry out successfully. I'll go with you.<br/>
Sergio processes his words and then smiles, sincerely relieved. – That’s great - he says. - Great. Then come home with me. My plane’s in five days, as I told you, but I can stay and wait if you need time to organize...<br/>
-There’s nothing to organize - replies Andrés carelessly. - I'll tell Tatiana tonight.<br/>
-She’s not coming?<br/>
-Nope.<br/>
-You told me she knew about the heist.<br/>
-And she does. I'll tell her not to come anyway. And honestly, I don't think she's even going to <em>want</em> to come with us after I tell her we're getting a divorce.<br/>
-You want... You want a divorce? - Sergio blinks several times, then he understands. - Yes, I think it's the right thing.<br/>
-It is - nods Andrés.<br/>
-The shortest marriage in history. You broke your own record, Andrés. The others usually lasted at least a month.<br/>
Andrés doesn't answer; there's not even a trace of a smile on his face, and Sergio starts to worry. He's about to ask him what's wrong, when the truth hits him in the face and he mentally calls himself an idiot for not understanding it right away. - Martín's not coming either, is he?<br/>
Andrés takes a deep breath and waits a couple of seconds. - I'll tell him tonight, before I go to Tatiana's. You were right, he's too involved… And <em>I</em> am too involved.<br/>
Sergio starts to feel a sincere wave of dejection for his brother and for Martín too. He can't help feeling guilty but he can't say he regrets it, and the fact that Andrés eventually agreed confirms that this was inevitable.<br/>
-Well, - he says, - you don't have to say goodbye forever, right? We go in to the Mint, we print our billion and once you're out you go to him. I'm sure he'll understand and he’ll wait for you. - "He's been doing it since forever," he wants to add, but he doesn’t. - Tell him to wait for you somewhere and you'll be there.<br/>
Andrés lets a smile of tenderness slip in front of Sergio's naivety and manages to make it look like hope. - Yes, - he lies, - yes, it sounds perfect.<br/>
 <br/>
 <br/>
-You and I are soul mates – he tells him.<br/>
Martín looks at him with his hands on his hips without the slightest astonishment, as if it was nothing new for him. - I'm 99% sure.<br/>
Martín swallows and manages not to make his voice tremble when he asks: - Ninety-nine?<br/>
-Yes, well... There's always a 1% to leave to chance. – He move one step in his direction. - But I figured it out.<br/>
-How long have you known?<br/>
He figured he'd ask him. - A few months - he answers honestly. - I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier.<br/>
Martín takes a few steps towards him, cautious; his gaze is a mixture of anger and... desire? For the first time Andrés can't decipher his friend, and it destabilizes him. – And why are you telling me now? - Martín asks him in a whisper.<br/>
-Because you deserved to know the truth… before I go.<br/>
Martín raises an eyebrow; <em>now</em> he sees him skeptical. - Go where?<br/>
After days of planning, Andrés finds himself not knowing what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he should say, but the words die down his throat and he suddenly doubts he can finish what he started.<br/>
-Where are you going? - Martín insists, approaching until he’s standing a couple of inches from his face, his voice low and sweet; Andrés calls mentally reprimands himself for being a sentimental teenager at the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, and he has to clench his fists to prevent his hands from shaking - but maybe, just maybe, that’s not up to Martín, it’s just the myopathy.<br/>
Everything is amplified when Martín puts one hand on his neck and caresses his cheek with the other, slow and delicate, careful not to cross the line too quickly despite the fact that he’s playing it cool in words. - Are you running away, Andrés de Fonollosa?<br/>
They shared a platonic relationship but they were used to being very physical with each other – however, <em>this</em> is a completely different contact, and Andrés' heart runs like a train.<br/>
-Martín... -When he tries to speak he realizes he has no voice, he can't even hear himself, and it's better that way actually, since he doesn't know what he's trying to tell him.<br/>
-Don’t worry – whispers his best friend. - Don't be afraid.<br/>
Andrés has never seen Martín like this, and he can't help smiling. And he's scared, <em>so</em> scared, but not for himself. He’s afraid because he knows what’s going to happen and what he promised himself to do next. But he doesn't stop him when Martín kisses him for the first time. He had imagined it different, less common and obvious than a simple "feeling whole", and yet that's exactly how he feels. Whole. He has spent a lifetime trying different people and different things, and only now does he get to know what he’s always read about, heard about, dreamed about. All the pieces finally fit together. That's the way it should be.<br/>
When Martín breaks away, Andrés never wants to open his eyes again; he would stop time at that precise moment if he could. Martín keeps teasing him. - You're a coward, eh? - He gives him another quick kiss. - Are you a coward, Andrés?<br/>
"Not coward," he thinks, unable to say it out loud.<br/>
He opens his eyes and sees Martín approaching him again, then he stops an inch from his lips, moves away a little and waits, heavy breathing and short breath – maybe he’s scared too, or he’s simply overwhelmed. He doesn't kiss him because he wants Andrés to do it, and the latter knows that giving in will make everything more difficult but he wants it, he wants it, he <em>wants</em>.<br/>
"Selfish, maybe"<br/>
When he’s sure he’s found a sense of reality again he takes a few steps forward, forcing Martín to step back. It’s almost like a metaphor for their relationship: Andrés does, thinks, says, and Martín acts as a reflection, indulges him in everything and trusts him blindly, even now; he walks backwards without worrying about looking over his shoulder. He’s chained to Andrés' gaze and doesn't want to look at anything else, he doesn't need to. When he's about to touch the wall, Andrés realizes that he's been waiting for nothing but that, so he pushes him against it and kisses him, his desire so strong he thinks he’s going to burst. He tries to put everything he feels into his kisses, letting his hands wander from his friend's hips to his lower back, and then back up to his shoulders; when they come off to breathe he brings them up to his cheeks and he feels tears stinging his eyes, but he doesn't dare open them. He has no right to be weak in front of Martín, given what he's about to do.<br/>
-I knew it was you - Martín tells him between gasps, his eyes full of tears. - I knew it - He goes back to kissing him, while guilt tightens its grip on Andrés.<br/>
"Leave him," He hears his conscience’s voice, the one he’s always been accustomed to silencing without any remorse, "if you really love him, act accordingly and leave him."<br/>
Martín is getting more insistent, he holds his face against his and moans; Andrés feels a heat everywhere, his body’s starting to respond and if he doesn't stop now it will all have been for nothing.<br/>
“<em>Leave him</em>”<br/>
He pulls away all of a sudden, more because of the lack of oxygen than good intentions. - Wait... - He's panting, taking some time to pick the right words. - Wait... - He caresses his cheeks and decides there's no point in waiting any longer: - We can't.<br/>
-What are you saying?<br/>
-It can't work.<br/>
-What are you talking about? We're soul mates. You just said that. Of course it can work, and it will…<br/>
-Not like this – Andrés shakes his head, his eyes fixed in the other's. - Not in this world, Martín.<br/>
His best friend takes a breath, then he gets more decisive. - Let me see them - he says.<br/>
-See what?<br/>
-The Words.<br/>
-No.<br/>
-Why? - he asks exasperatedly.<br/>
-You don't need to know them. Fate must take its course.<br/>
-Fuck fate! - Martín loses it. - We can <em>elude</em> fate. Andrés, we found each other. Do you know how rare that is? It gives us an advantage...<br/>
Andrés shakes his head, moves his face away a bit and resumes in a firmer tone: - I don't want to elude fate. I want it to end here and now. It's better for you, and it's better for me too.<br/>
Martín blinks several times, like he’s trying to wake up from a dream; it doesn't take him long to understand. - It's because of the myopathy, isn't it?<br/>
Andrés lowers his gaze, but Martín forces him to look at him: - Answer me, or I swear to God...<br/>
-I don't want to spend the rest of my life with you knowing it'll end the way we know - Martín opens his mouth to answer but Andrés cuts him off him. – It’s my life, my death – he sighs. - I'm saying goodbye. I couldn’t leave without telling you the truth. That we’re soul mates, and we always will be... But that's all. This is it.<br/>
When tears flow quietly from Martín's eyes, Andrés already knows he’s won, and yet he wants to die. The Argentinian moves his hand from his cheek to the back of his head and pulls him closer, pleading with his eyes. - You can't be serious. You don't mean it... I can’t believe you really want this.<br/>
-But I do – replied Andrés solemnly, wiping Martín’s tears with his thumb like he’d done months before. - Even if we lived in a world without soul mates... I'd have chosen this.<br/>
This seems to bring Martín down, Andrés sees it in his eyes. He'd still have so many things to tell him.<br/>
"I'm trying to spare you at least <em>some</em> of the pain you'd feel if I stayed with you."<br/>
"I'd rather know you’re unbound and free than chained to me forever as I reach rock-bottom."<br/>
"Because I love you more than I love myself."<br/>
Martín tries to resume the kiss but Andrés stiffens and shakes his head. They stay in each other's space, breathing the same air. - It's impossible - Andrés touches Martín's lips with his one last time, barely, softly, like he’s trying to apologize. - It's impossible.<br/>
"Forgive me. You don't see it now, but I'm doing it for you."<br/>
Andrés is the last one to take his hands off of the other and then slowly walks backwards. He can only add one thing before he gives him the coup de grâce.<br/>
-I love you, Martín - he says it without taking his eyes off of him, wanting to make sure that he understands it, that he believes it. - But my brother’s right, we must part ways.<br/>
Martín keeps leaning on the wall like he might fall if he doesn’t, and nods at Andrés’ words. - And we have to scrap the plan.<br/>
He turns his back on him as he puts on his coat, fast: he knows Martín is about to say the words, and suddenly all he wants to do is run as far away as he can but still he stays, and waits for the love of his life to put an end to it.<br/>
-Your son of a bitch brother told you I loved you to break up this house? You're going to go and make photocopies in the Royal Mint, right?<em> I offered melting gold together.</em><br/>
-You’re hooked on something that doesn't exist and will never exist! - screams Andrés, furious with himself but mostly with fate. After that he feels relieved, free from a burden. He realizes it's over and, paradoxically, from that moment everything becomes easier. Painful, but easier. The road’s already drawn, he just needs to follow it.<br/>
He turns to Martín for the last time. - I have to leave you. It's... for love. For brotherhood. For the commitment I have to you – He take a deep breath and puts on his hat. – Leave... and heal your wound. Sometimes distance is the only way to find peace.<br/>
He always laughed at speeches like "if you really love someone, let them go". According to him, it was the exact opposite: to love means to fight, make mistakes, meet halfway, chase, grow up... But not surrender. If you love someone you hold on to them and you hold on tight. And yet he's doing the exact thing he’s always rejected: he's letting him go, and he doesn't regret it. Now Martín’s free to live, start over, and maybe even fall in love again. The idea makes Andrés find some peace.<br/>
-Farewell, my friend. I’m sure that... one way or another time will bring us back together.<br/>
He looks at him as long as he can, before turning around and heading down the corridor. He doesn't worry about Martín stopping him – he knows he won't.<br/>
 <br/>
 <br/>
Regarding soul mates, Andrés always had one certainty: everyone ends up falling in love more than once in a lifetime, but each individual is destined to be with one single person; having a soul mate means loving, being loved and spending life together.<br/>
It’s only now, many years later, that he has to reconsider the third and final assumption. But that's all right. That's the way it should be.<br/>
Martín must be reading his Words now, comparing them with the ones he just heard from Andrés, and the latter has no doubt that they coincide. He’d thought about them before speaking: he’s sure they’ll never see each other again in that life, but maybe, just maybe, they might have another chance in that existence suspended between emptiness and memory that comes after death – in which Andrés always believed.<br/>
"I hope he’ll join me there, but only after a long time," he thinks, without holding back tears now that he’s alone driving towards Florence, the city lights moving closer. "I hope to see him again after he has lived. And I really hope he’ll recover and be happy with someone else. We’ll have an eternity to be together, if there’s another place. And if there isn't… Well, it’s been heaven knowing him<sup>4</sup>."</span>
    </span>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>1 Translation: "I will send you a kiss with the wind / and I know you feel it, / you will turn around without seeing me, / but I will be there"<br/>2 Sergio's soul mate is Raquel<br/>3 They’re Marseille and Bogotà: I chose a Serbo-Croatian name for the former, since they made it pretty clear that’s his nationality in the series; I chose Santiago for the second because in 4x04 Berlin says that the fake explosion that happened while he was inside the bank was provoked by a friend of his called Santiago and I dunno, I thought it might be Bogotà since he was at Berlin’s wedding… But that’s just my opinion obv. If we don't find out their real names next season I'll sue<br/>4 This last sentence is from the movie “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri”<br/>-The title of the fic a song by the Men at Work and if you're here I'm sure you all recall from which scene of LCDP you heard it (my baby's got the best taste in music *.* )</p></blockquote></div></div>
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